AMB Class #9: Everything's Just Ducky - Part 2

Since a few readers expressed an interest in some of the duck details that might be old hat for true master birders, and since I'm still trying to get this stuff down, let's start off with a review of what we covered in the Dabblers and Divers post, and maybe hit a few things I missed last time around.

• Mallards:  for males, there's no coordination between bill color and leg color (yellow bill, orange legs);  the females have it all right with matching legs and bill (all orange)
• American Wigeons:  blue bills!  Very distinctive when you know to look for it.  This is true for both males and females.
• Northern Pintails:  blue bills!  Wait!  Wasn't that supposed to be the wigeons?  Really, why not a few rules that stick!  But it's really hard to mix up a wigeon and a pintail...unless, maybe you have two females
• Gadwalls:  "white wall" = a bit of white speculum that shows up on the water's edge.  Except when it doesn't.
• Eurasian Wigeons:  okay, we didn't cover these birds in class, because they don't show up in Colorado, but here's a gratuitous photo of one of these cool birds that I saw - quite unexpectedly - on a rainy day last March in the vicinity of Point Reyes National Seashore in California.  Just like an American Wigeon - blue bill and all - except for the copper-colored head.

Eurasian Wigeon (male)
3/27/13
Point Reyes National Seashore, CA

Then, those Teals, how could I not include a few photos?  Skot tells us we are more likely to see the Teals in the spring, and my photo archive bears that out.

Blue-winged Teal (male)
4/20/12
Cherry Creek SP, CO
*notice the large bill.  Not quite as big as a shoveler, but clearly bigger than the wigeon.

Cinnamon Teal, with Blue-winged Teal
4/18/12
South Platte Park, CO
**notice the big bills on both of these guys

Green-winged Teal (female & 2 males)
4/19/13
Cherry Creek SP, CO

And the darling Ruddy Ducks:  

Ruddy Ducks
1/19/13
South Platte River, CO (north)
can you guess why they are called "stiff-tails"?

We covered all these ducks - dabblers and divers - in a fly-by session.  I thought it was time for a break.  Scot Latona thought otherwise, and moved on to geese.  Simple, right?  There are just those big honkin' things that are everywhere you look in city parks, right?

Well, duh.  If you're paying attention, nothing in birding is that simple. Check your assumptions and simplifications at the door, please, and follow along.

Yep, there are Canada Geese.  (And please, if you're around a birder, do *not* say "Canadian Geese".  There is, I think, no greater sin among the tried and true.  Well, maybe if you say "seagull" you can get yourself in more hot water, but just barely.)

But really, big-shot birders don't even talk about Canada Geese;  they say "White-cheeked Geese".  Really.  It's like a secret handshake.  I'll probably get thrown out of the club for telling you this.

But wait, I'm not really in the club.  So what the heck.

So, "White-cheeked Geese" are actually much more complex and nuanced than just a single species of Canada Goose.  What fun would that be?  There are Canada Geese, and there are Cackling Geese. Further, there are 7 subspecies of Canada Geese, and 5 subspecies of Cackling Geese.  But wait!  There's more!  These classifications keep morphing and evolving.  If you look at my Peterson guide, you essentially get Canada Geese.  If you look at the full-blown Sibley's, you get the whole shebang.

And "the whole shebang" keeps shifting, like the San Andreas Fault.  You just can't trust it.

So those geese you see in the park?  Could be one of the Canada complex, or one of the Cackling species.  The basic differences are size (Canada are larger, but you can get into trouble real fast if you think that's your key fieldmark, since there is considerable overlap), and bill size and shape (this is more reliable:  Cackling Geese have significantly smaller bills with a very different angle in the profile - much steeper forehead, and much straighter bill.  The Canada Goose bill, by comparison, looks more like a ski jump.)

Canada Goose and Cackling Goose
11/27/12
Green Valley Rec Center, CO

Snow Geese (both white and blue phases)
2/29/12
West Gothenburg WMA, NE

Then there are the light geese, and, of course, why should they be any easier?  There are Snow Geese, and, in keeping with the theme of *not* making it easy, there are Blue phase (really a morph, since once a blue Snow Goose, always a blue Snow Goose).  Western populations of Snow Geese tend to be white, and Eastern populations tend toward blue;  being at the convergence of the east and west, we tend to get both.  And then, of course, if you weren't already confused enough, there's the Ross's Goose.  Yeah.  That one.  The one that looks *way* too similar to the white morph Snow Goose for my taste.  The key difference in the Ross's Goose is that it has a smaller head than the Snow Goose, and no tomia.

Snow Goose (blue morph) with Cackling Geese
1/15/12
Denver City Park, CO

Huh?  "Tomia"?  That's birdspeak for a black smile patch.  When you see it, it's very apparent.  It makes the bird with the tomia (that would be the Snow Goose) kind of look like a wise guy. Or a kind of weirdo.

Ross's Goose
11/27/12
Lakewood, CO

But I like these birds!  Truly I do.  Even so, it was time for a much-needed, and too-short break.  Cuz, really, what else is there to cover?

Well, there's a bunch more stuff.  Holy Moses.  Who knew that there was so much waterfowl around?  And we've already covered a bunch of it with Doug Kibbe many weeks ago.  Yikes.

There are scoters.  Not huge in Colorado, but we get a few passing through, including Surf Scoters and Black Scoters and White-winged Scoters.

There are mergansers.  Hello!  We have tons of mergansers, only three species, but what cool birds.  There are Common Mergansers, and Hooded Mergansers (you will never forget a male Hoodie after you've seen one with his hood raised), and Red-breasted Mergansers (the birds that always look like they are having a bad hair day).

Common Merganser (female)
9/30/12
Chatfield SP, CO

Red-breasted Merganser
3/27/13
Point Reyes National Seashore, CA

Hooded Merganser
1/5/13
Wheat Ridge Greenbelt, CO

Hooded Merganser (juvenile/immature)
1/5/13
Wheat Ridge Greenbelt, CO

Hooded Merganser (female)
1/5/13
Wheat Ridge Greenbelt, CO

Finally, there are swans.  Oh my.  Such grand birds.  Mute Swans are increasing in numbers in the Midwest;  not native to North America.  (When I lived in England, in the late 1980s, friends told me that all of the swans - in this case, all Mute Swans - are the property of the Queen.  Apparently this is at least partially true, so if you're in London, don't go messing with the swans in any of the parks there.)  Tundra Swans are smaller, and have a yellow lore (or at least most of them do, although it's small and not always easy to see), and the larger Trumpeter Swans (these guys have an all black bill with a red tomia - remember the tomia from our Snow Goose above?).  Trumpeters crook their neck when they take off, and, if they're in a mixed flock along with Tundra Swans, the Trumpeters are the last to land.

Mute Swan
12/2/12
London's Regent Park, UK

Tundra Swans
3/2/13
Boulder, CO

Trumpeter Swans
7/31/11
Cordova, AK

Whew.  That was a lot of Anatidae Anatomy.  It's a pretty good thing that I didn't go with my impulse to skip this class.  Oh my.  I'm swimming (is that dabbling or diving?) with information overload, once again.

AMB Class #9: Everything's Just Ducky - Part 1

Our class on November 4 is all about ducks.  Can I be honest?  We're just starting our fourth month of this program, and I'm feeling a little burnt out.  Yikes;  there are 9 more months to go, and a whole bunch more classes.  That's worrisome, on the surface.  But maybe it's normal:  the course is both front- and rear-loaded, with a few less busy months in the late fall and winter.  The truly crazy times are way out in the distance - June and July, where we're booked solid for nearly two months.  But anyway, back to the class at hand.....I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed, and really not that excited about tonight's topic.  Ducks.  Really, this is one area where I think I'm in pretty good shape.  

And I'm about ready to learn how wrong I am.

Mallard (Male)
11/23/12
Bend, OR
Notice how the bill (yellow) and legs (orange) don't match

Our guest lecturer tonight is Skot Latona, a wildlife guru at South Platte Park in Denver.  It's appropriate, since the South Platte is a reliable place to see ducks year round, and especially in winter.  Our feathered friends are, in fact, arriving in huge numbers even as we speak.

Skot's presentation is titled "Anatomy of Anatidae".  Okay, I like words, so I give him points for cleverness.  "Anatidae" is the family of birds that includes ducks, geese, and swans, and it's the first new bit of information for the evening.  Not a complete waste of time.

Mallard (Female)
4/15/12
Boston, MA
See how the bill and legs are both orange?
Our AMB mentor Cynthia likes to say that
"SHE knows how to match her shoes & her purse."

Then Skot divides ducks into dabblers and divers.  Well, duh, who doesn't know that?  Then he goes on to share with us that dabbling ducks primarily eat vegetation and aquatic insects, and sit up high in the water;  their leg position gives them maneuverability versus power (diving ducks' legs are situated much further back on their bodies);  and the dabblers' longer wings give them greater accuracy.  Diving ducks eat mostly deeper vegetation and mollusks and crustaceans;  they sit lower in the water;  they have narrower, pointed wings; and they all (save Buffleheads) have to run along the surface of the water in order to take off.  Um, yeah, sure.  I knew all that.  Well, most of it.  Well, okay, um, a tiny bit.  Maybe it's a good thing I'm here tonight.

American Wigeon (male)
3/13/12
Ketring Lake, CO

American Wigeon (female)
3/13/12
Ketring Lake, CO

We dive into dabblers.  Okay, maybe we survey them on the surface.  We start with Mallards (white on both sides of the speculum, males have unmatching legs and bills), American Wigeons (the ducks that sound like squeaky toys), Northern Pintails (the most elegant of the dabblers, with their long thin necks), Gadwalls (the most underrated duck for beauty, IMHO), Northern Shovelers (a beginner's delight, so easy to identify with that big boat-shaped and boat-sized bill), and the teals:  Blue-winged, Green-winged, and Cinnamon.  Blue-winged and Cinnamon Teals also have large bills, not quite as big as a shoveler's, but bigger than the rest of the dabblers.  Oh, and that "unique" feature of a Mallard, to help with ID in flight, the thing about the white on both sides of the speculum?  Yeah, well good luck with that.  The Green-winged Teal also has white on both sides of the speculum.

Northern Pintails (female, male)
1/21/12
Barr Lake State Park, CO

I mean, really, it's so unfair.  Who makes this stuff up?

Gadwalls (female, male)
11/18/12
Wheat Ridge Greenbelt, CO

We get a quiz.  Easy-peasy.  I've got this down.  But the quiz is all males.  In breeding plumage.  So we get a new quiz.  Females.  Uh-oh.  Yikes.  Maybe I should pay REALLY close attention.

Northern Shoveler (male)
1/5/13
Wheat Ridge Greenbelt, CO

Northern Shoveler (female)
11/25/12
Green Valley Rec Center, CO

Common Goldeneye (male)
1/20/13
South Platte (Reynold's Landing), CO

We move on to diving ducks.  We cover Goldeneyes first.  Common Goldeneyes are, well, in Colorado, the most common of the goldeneyes.  Both Common and Barrow's Goldeneyes (the males, that is) have big round dots on their faces and - duh factor! - gold eyes.  Common Goldeneye's spots are round, and Barrow's are crescent-shaped.  Field guides will try to tell you that one has a head with a green sheen, and the other has a head with a purple sheen, but Skot tells us that this is fiction:  the sheen is a factor of the direction of the sun.  Damn.  I hate when easy tell-tale signs don't work.

Common Goldeneye (female)
1/20/13
South Platte (Reynold's Landing), CO

More divers:  Ring-necked Ducks and Scaups.  I still get these guys mixed up, but if I'm not getting better at differentiating the three different species (there are two species of Scaups in these parts, both Lesser and Greater), I'm at least getting better at pronouncing Scaup.  "Skawp".  Practice saying that over and over, and you, too, can then sneer at any fool who screws up and says "skowp".  Unless that fool happens to be me.

Back to divers.  Who knew there were so many?  There are also Canvasbacks and Redheads (easy for us novices to mix up - something I've done multiple times), and Ruddy Ducks (cutest little buggers you'll ever see), and Long-tailed Ducks, and Harlequins. Harlequins:  on my wish list, but not at all regular in Colorado.  

Redhead, Ring-necked Duck, Canvasback
11/25/12
Emerald Green, CO

But Long-tailed?  This is one of those things that tells me God has a sense of humor.  When I first truly discovered birds, it was Christmastime in Florida.  Oh, the abundance!  And the easy big wading birds!  Herons and egrets and storks and pelicans and cranes and spoonbills and any birders's heart's desire.  I came home to winter in Colorado - something I love - but not exactly the same birding experience.  Somehow, I found resources online, and in early January 2012 people were excitedly posting about this rare bird seen in a park near my home - Denver City Park:  A Long-tailed Duck. 

Barrow's Goldeneyes (male, female)
11/21/12
Smith Rock, OR

Now, I had no flippin' idea what a Long-tailed Duck looked like, but I determined to go see it.  And on a Sunday afternoon, I found myself at Duck Pond in City Park, and, oh my, what an assortment of ducks were there!  I had no idea so many different ducks existed.  I didn't know about dabblers versus divers.  I didn't know diddly.  I just knew I was seeing stuff that was new and amazing to me. I had a camera and a big lens, so I took photo after photo, knowing I'd have to figure it all out - if at all possible - when I got home.

So I got home, and combed through my photos.  There were tons of Goldeneyes, and I had quite the job figuring out the differences between the males and females.  Really, who makes this stuff up?  They don't look anything alike - at least to us humans.  And there were Buffleheads.  Whoa.  Cool.  Birds.  I was like a kid with a major sweet tooth in Candyland:  all this richness, and I was just getting started.  

Long-tailed Duck
1/15/12
Denver City Park

Then I saw a different duck.  Very different.  It was light colored and looked a little dirty, and there was just one.  But there it was, tucked away in my photos.  The Long-tailed Duck.  How easy was that?  An obsession had, perhaps, already been born.  But this pretty little oddball, easy to spot stand-out duck?  Well, that was the crack cocaine dealer standing by the side of the schoolyard, offering samples.

Long-tailed Duck
1/15/12
Denver City Park, CO

And I was hooked.

Interlude: Fall Break

Ruddy Turnstone
Canaveral National Seashore

Okay, the AMB program does not officially have a Fall Break.  But with no field trip on November 9th and no class on November 11th, it sure seemed like a great time to get out of town for a few days.  And what better thing to do than to go see a National Seashore or two?

Now, when I finished running the 50 states, everyone wanted to know "what next?"  And the truth is, I really wasn't certain.  There are plenty of options.  Run a marathon on every continent, or in every Canadian province, or just all the races I wanted to run but passed by because I needed to check off Wyoming or Oklahoma or Mississippi.  There are bike rides to do, operas and symphonies and plays to see performed live, museums to gawk over.  There are state capitols to see.  There are classes to take, all kinds of stuff to learn.  There are ski slopes to ski down (or snowshoe up).  There are world capitals to visit.  There are books to read, and piano pieces to learn, and a tad bit of writing to do.  

Sanderlings
Canaveral National Seashore

It seems the one thing I didn't really consider doing was to start trying to see all the birds of the world.

Boat-tailed Grackle
Canaveral National Seashore

Somehow, though, as the dust settled, one idea did solidly plant itself in my brain:  to visit all of the National Parks.  My friend Leann finished her round of the 50 states a few months before I did, and sometime in the last months of our respective journeys, we talked about this idea, and she added the National Seashores to the list.

A new goal was born.

So now, in addition to chasing birds, I'm also chasing National Parks and National Seashores and heaven knows but that we'll soon extend that to include National Monuments and Historic Parks and all the rest.  National Wildlife Refuges?  Well, there are something like 500 of them, but what the heck, throw them in, too.

Little Blue Heron
Merritt Island NWR

In the last couple of years, Leann and I have put some road miles on our already well-used feet.  We've met at Point Reyes National Seashore in California in the spring, and at Gulf Islands National Seashore (the part in Florida) in the fall.  We've done the Rim to Rim hike down (and up) at the Grand Canyon, and the sandy hike up (and back down) at the Great Sand Dunes National Park.  So it was perfect when the AMB Fall Break aligned with Leann's schedule, and we settled on two seashores that are driving distance from each other:  Canaveral and Cumberland Island, both great birding spots.

There's just one problem:  Leann is not a birder.

Laughing Gull
Cumberland Island National Seashore

There's an easy solution:  She tolerates it.  At least some.  And she loves wildlife (maybe just not "tweety birds" quite so much).

That's how I came to spend my Fall Break with my marathoning buddy, hiking as much of Cumberland Island as we could fit in, and driving as many of the wildlife trails at and around Canaveral as possible in the few days we had.

Reddish Egret
Merritt Island NWR

We had a great trip:  lots of road trip time, lots of wildlife (manatees, dolphins, an armadillo, a feral pig, three young racoons, giant spiders, little lizards, a couple of alligators, wild horses!), a smattering of good hiking, plenty of birds, lots of sand and surf, one naked surfer (unbeknownst to us, we stumbled onto an unofficial nudist beach; the park rangers didn't warn us about THAT particular beach hazard), good food (including a couple of great diner breakfasts), and - the thing that makes Leann a grand traveling companion - loads of laughs.

Nope, it wasn't a birding trip.  It was just a simple Fall Break.  And if I got lucky enough to see a few birds that aren't every day birds in Colorado, then who can argue with that?

Palm Warbler
Merritt Island NWR

Willet
Cumberland Island National Seashore

Sunset, Cumberland Island National Seashore

AMB - 1/4 of the way through the year; some numbers...

Where did the time go?  It seems just yesterday that we had our first AMB class (that I, um, er, missed because I was in the Galapagos) (and yes, I realize that's name-dropping, but it was so incredible that I feel compelled to bring it up lest the last three months wipe it entirely from my brain, and oh what a shame that would be).  And here it is, the end of three months.

Blue-footed Booby, Galapagos.  Sadly, not a Colorado bird.

Whew!  And Yikes!  There's still so much to do.  And oh, heavens, there's so much to learn.  Shhh - don't tell my mentor - but there's also so much to read (I've done *most* of the required reading, but I have stacks of the "optional stuff" lined up), and also so much homework to complete.

And so many other things to do.

Not to mention a bunch of birds to see.

It seems a good time to do a quick review of the AMB requirements, and compare where I am to where I need to be at the end of the next 9 months.

AMB Field Trip to Castlewood Canyon
not so many birds, but oh, the habitat!

First up is a year-long assignment:  the AMB Guide to Colorado Habitats and Birds.  This is an exercise in looking at 30 distinct Colorado habitats (we are one of the richest states in the nation for different habitat, owing to the diversity provided from the plains to the mountains) and determining what birds are to be expected in any given habitat and then tracking our sightings by season for the year.  I'll punt on this one and just say that I have my 30 habitat lists "done";  well, at least round one is complete.  There will be tons of tweaking over the remaining seasons.

Next up:  Identify and list at least 200 bird species in Colorado.  We've been told that we can use birds we've seen prior to entering the program, but where's the sport in that?  I've started a fresh list as of August 1, and have tallied 166 birds.  Just 34 more to go by July 31. (I suspect that most of my classmates have a similar tally, since we're seeing pretty much the same birds on a weekly basis.)

Surf Scoter (not quite #555)
Rocky Mountain Lake Park
kinda/sorta AMB field trip

An aside, for my friends who are number-sluts like me:  that Black Scoter I saw last week?  It was bird species #555 of the year for me.  As I've said before, my life list is much larger than someone with my limited experience could reasonably hope for, but circumstances have been in my favor.  All disclaimers and such aside, who doesn't love having a nice round number like 555 associated with a cool bird like the scoter?

The rest of the AMB requirements are a mixed bag, in terms of progress.  Identify birds on the ABC Watch List?  Check.  Complete profiles of three species?  Ooops;  none completed.  Field activities: out of roughly 20 suggested activities, I've completed just one.  With 5 required, that's another Ooops.  But "Bird ten sites on the Front Range and complete trip reports":  check!  Complete a rare bird sight record form:  check!  (Thank heavens for rarities.)  Participate in at least one Christmas bird count (well, that's coming) and at least one Fall or Spring count:  check.   Volunteer at least 10 hours for ASGD:  6 hours done. 

Coopers Hawk
Denver City Park (my "backyard")
9/22/13

There are some items that are just not possible to complete yet.  Backyard birding is a year long thing;  so far, I've done 7 of the 24 lists that are required over the course of the year.  Record the breeding of 5 species?  Well, um, that depends on some birds getting busy breeding, and it's not quite time yet.  Lead a field trip:  in the planning stages.  Research and prepare a written research paper on a bird-related topic:  er, I'll have to get back to you on that one.

Oh, and those test numbers.  Yeah.  Test number one is in the bag;  it seems a million years ago.  Test number two (labeled "ducks") is not too far in the offing.  Oh dear.  I'll talk to you later;  I think I need to go review some ducks........

AMB Class 2013-2014, Crow Valley Campground, Sept 2013

Birding Yin and Yang

There's a battle of sorts that takes place among birders, and it's the one about quality over quantity.  Or is it quantity over quality?

In my marathoning days, there was a similar schism within the running community.  Is it more noble to run tons of marathons (e.g., finish one in each of the fifty states, or maybe all the continents, or maybe one every weekend for a year, things that seem completely crazy to non-marathoners, but border on the everyday to the folks in clubs like the Marathon Maniacs and the 50 States Marathon Club), or is it more noble to run a few marathons and do your absolute best (i.e., fastest)?  

With birders, is it about seeing the most birds?  Or really understanding and being able to identify the birds you see?

In either case, are the two mutually exclusive?

It's a question I ask myself frequently as I find myself becoming a birder.  (For the record, as a marathoner, I found myself somewhere in the middle.  Yes, I ran a marathon in each of the 50 states.  But I also qualified for and ran the Boston Marathon ten years in a row - 11 if you count the hot year at the end, when I wasn't trained and had lost my spirit and had my first ever DNF.  But that's an entirely different story - and blog.)  Do I want to just build up a big life list?  The hard core birders scoff at the people they call "listers", and I don't ever want to be dismissed so handily.

But really, is it all or nothing?  Yin or yang?  Consider one of my best birding friends.  In birding, he stays fairly close to home, and knows a ton more than I do about our local birds.  And yet, that knowledge translates into an overall superior knowledge of birds.  When I travel and have ID issues, he's able to help me figure out what I'm seeing, even if it's a bird he might not have seen himself....and, I believe, he appreciates the birds I share with him.  In fact, even though he likes to say "you know I don't chase birds", his messages to me often start with things like, "had a nice day at chatfield, saw the pomarine jaeger, and a sabine's gull, and a red-necked grebe".

It seems that there's a little bit of the purist and the seeker there.

As a fledgling birder, I do have a life list that is far greater and more varied than someone with my limited experience should normally lay claim to.  That's largely due to the great good fortune that I've had in the last year, to have a work project in South Africa, and have taken advantage of 4 trips to the southern part of Africa to see wildlife:  specifically, birds.  As well as the vacations to places like Alaska and Florida and Texas and the Galapagos.   But it also has to do with the fact that I've embraced this thing, and chased birds - local regulars as well as the irregular migrants or other rarities.

Which brings me to my last couple of weeks, and non-AMB program birding.  The classes and field trips are getting more widely spaced as we get into the end of the year, and allowances have been made for the sparsity of birds in the state post-migration.  In fact, for the last couple of months of the year, the pace drops off noticeably.  Not to worry:  we'll make up for it next June and July when the schedule is super-intense:  during that time frame, the only weekend we won't have a field trip is over the Fourth of July.  I have no worries that I'll get my money's worth.

But even though there are theoretically fewer birds around now, there's been a healthy number of rarities - or simply birds I "need" (read:  I have not yet seen and thus haven't counted on my life list) - being reported around the state.  And somehow, along the way, I've picked up a valued community of like-minded fellow-birders, who see a report of a rare bird and say "when can you go see it?"

This may not be good for my career.  Specifically, the one that pays me to be inside, at a desk, during working hours.

Nevertheless, over the last few weeks, I've spent some time chasing rarities.  A couple of weeks ago, I told you about that fabulous Pomarine Jaeger;  I've had the good fortune to see the Chatfield jaeger several times now, as well as to have seen another at Barr Lake State Park last Saturday.  On the way to Barr Lake, my friends (enablers, some might say) and I stopped off at a place where a Red Phalarope had recently been reported.  At first, we didn't spot the bird, but then a harrier flew overhead, and all the smaller birds flushed and changed position, and voila!  There was our phalarope, right in front of us.  We also chased - and spotted - a Cattle Egret at Barr Lake (which makes my Florida birding friend Melissa howl with laughter, since Cattle Egrets are ditch birds in her part of the world.  Never mind.  It's a rarity here.)

And just when I thought I'd seen all the "easy" local rarities, two scoters showed up in my backyard.  Two different scoters:  a Surf Scoter (a rare bird for Colorado that i'd seen at a couple of local spots already this fall) as well as a Black Scoter - a bird I've never seen anywhere.  And quite literally in my backyard:  they were reported the other day in Denver City Park.  Yes, the same place that I've chosen to do my "Backyard" birding for my AMB requirement.

So how could I not get over there posthaste?

That meant that on Halloween Day, I blocked off an actual lunch hour on my work calendar.  That in itself is a rarity.  And the day cooperated:  beautiful and sunny;  a bit windy and a tad chilly, but really, just perfect for a fall day in Denver.  Because of all the internet reports, I was expecting a crowd of birders.  But there I was, completely solo.

And here's the thing:  the gosh darn birds cooperated.  I walked up to Ferril Lake - the big lake at Denver City Park - and there they were.  No searching.  No repeat trips.  No pishing, or playing recordings, or looking in the underbrush.  Just two duck-like birds hanging out in the water.

Surf Scoter exercising its wings, with Black Scoter in background

Black Scoter exercising ITS wings, looking identical to the drawing in my Sibley's, with its head bobbing forward

Aha!  Ruddy Ducks trying to confuse me!

Black Scoter

Surf Scoter (left) and Black Scoter (right)

Surf Scoter and Black Scoter

Black Scoter (left), Scaup (lesser?  greater?  I'm not sure), and Surf Scoter (right)

So, it seemed that on this one day, I was meant to be a "lister", someone out padding their life list with a cool new bird.  Or was I actually learning these birds in more depth?  I watched two unusual (for these parts) birds hang out together in the lake.  They were clearly buddies on some level.  Both dove at the same time (every single time!)  Both preened side by side.  If one rose up to exercise wings, then the other one did, too.  They swam companionably along side by side.  And when a helicopter passed overhead, each bird, in turn, looked up to see where the noise was coming from.

If I'm a "lister", guilty as charged.  And I'm having a damn good time doing it.  And learning a heckuva lot in the process.